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Mayhem

Now here's the problem, right now, right here. I can't do what pleases me, because I'm out of ideas. I'm a little sick of poetry (gasp! Did I just say that?) - yes, and let me explain, in the best way I can.

I did not mean for this blog to turn into a poetry blog, but, slowly, it seems to have become so. Of course, a month of poetry did not help take this blog away from that path.

I love poetry, I really do, but there's also so much pressure involved when everything suddenly involves poetry - am I reading enough? Should I keep writing? Submitting? Am I talking about poems well enough?

I basically need a break from all that, all the pressure and 'not good enough' feelings. I may still write poetry for myself, of course, if I get ideas, but I need to get away from the entire publishing idea, and be less involved, at least for a while. This blog was meant to be about literature and art - and I've really let down all my other hobbies.

So yes, I'm taking a little leave of absence from poetry.

I've recently started sewing, and have just about finished a small owl, so will post pictures soon. I think I need to get back to the writing I love, so will attempt that.

For good example of a blog post I loved, see this one right here, about an evening visiting art galleries. Experiences, art, writing, it was a good mix. I don't want to be stagnant. If I'm going to include poetry in my writing, I need movement, links with the outdoors, events.. I don't know if any of this makes much sense, but hopefully future posts will clarify my points.

So, sorry for my lack of posts since NaPo, but I will get back to writing. Just don't expect everything to be poetry related.

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"For your word list challenge today, I ask that you write an original poem (or re-work an older pen) in the spirit of the book, using at least 3 of these words, post to Mr. Linky, and then return to visit and comment on all the other posts. I'll be sure to visit periodically in the days to come in case you choose to join later."

Oh, day three - I still feel so rusty from such a long absence - I realised I did not even participate in NaPo last year! I am not even sure why... In any case, today's poem is a serious flop. But I said I'd write a poem a day. I didn't say I'd write a good one every day..

Sitting On A Bench In The Park On A Sunny DayA book in my hand, I observedthe geeseAmbling over to me by the bench,Hissing.A row of pointed teeth.Sprays of water shooting upGlittering drops falling onsensible ducks.They cut the water as they swim.A man sat on the benchnext to me - in his handa notebook."Do you come here often?"he asks.I question my instinct.Ravens caw loudly above,a whole crew of themcircling the area.Black against the yellow sun.I look like a foreigner, anartist.It is the man, he has said so.My metal badges clink as Iretrieve a pen from my bag,my metal badges are myforeigner's label